Of Your Soul and Mine
by TheCatWhiskersCameFromWithin
Summary: Dan and Phil, two average boys living in a sleepy northern town, are just trying to get by without getting themselves killed - but that's easier said than done - for Dan, anyway. Together, they'll face the toughest of life's challenges and stand side-by-side, but will Dan be able to keep their relationship platonic, even with Phil's pushy parents hot on his tail? Phan AU.
1. Of Your Soul and Mine

_AU where Dan and Phil have souls which are external. _

* * *

When they first meet, nothing special happens. Time doesn't seem to slow down, there are no fireworks, no groundbreaking revelations. They're just kids. Phil's content with watching the world pass by from up on the one of the highest branches of an old tree, whereas Dan sits beneath it, quietly observing everything around him; from the group of older boys playing football with a pair of makeshift goal posts, to the three women happily chatting on a nearby bench. Their activities and whereabouts highlight the very essences of their personalities, even as children. Phil will never be one to pass up the opportunity to feel free, to feel weightless. Dan, however, would much rather confine himself to absorbing the scenery and the lives of others from a safe distance, in complete solitude.

Though, Dan's isolation is splendid. It's optional. He's alone, but that doesn't mean he's lonely. Suddenly, a shrill scream pierces his ears, knocking him out of his thoughts, shattering the serenity. There's a splintering of what sounds like wood and Phil topples from his perch. He's definitely bitten off more than he can comfortably chew. He lands on the grassy bank with a loud thud, his eyes squeezed shut, tears beading at the corners of his eyes, sticking to his eyelashes.

"…Are you alright?" Dan asks after a while, his eyes wide and somewhat disbelieving. He's oddly cynical for a child. distrustful and somehow wise beyond his nine or so years. Shock consumes him, playing with his mind.

Phil doesn't speak, grimacing in pain, his eyes opening to stare up at Dan. They're big and blue and full of raw emotion. Dan can see everything in them! Embarrassment, hurt, confusion. They're look a lot like crystals, Dan thinks.

He pauses, biting his lower lip. "…Can you talk?" He asks, remembering back to when he'd ranted at his younger cousin for refusing to speak and had ended up grounded for his lack of sensitivity because apparently his cousin had a speech disorder.

Phil blinks. "Y-Yeah." He nods, pushing himself up with a grunt, pained. After all, he'd had quite the fall. "My name's Phil. What's yours?"

Dan's raised an eyebrow, bemused. "Dan." He muttered, a little taken aback. Phil seemed to be quite blunt. Straight-to-the-point.

In the end, Phil seems to have enough conversation in him for the two of them.

* * *

They meet each other every day at the same time. After school, they wander out to the very same tree, come rain or shine. Phil's always the first there, and he always jumped down from his perch to sit beside Dan as he gets comfortable.

He's clumsy, but as the days turn into weeks and the weeks add up into months, he becomes more and more graceful, until he starts setting himself little challenges, jumping from higher and higher branches each day. Sometimes, it ends in disaster, like the time he broke his little finger and cried until Dan dragged him home to get his mum and dad to fix it, but he's usually okay.

Dan's as silent as ever. It's ironic. One of the only things he's ever asked Phil was whether or not he talked.

He likes listening to Phil. It's reassuring.

It doesn't take long. They're soon the best of friends.

* * *

When Dan turns twelve, his mum and dad show him their souls. They're little balls of coloured light that hang around their necks on chains. His mum's is purple and his dad's is yellow, but really it's the other way around because they exchanged them. His dad has his mum's soul and his mum has his dad's soul.

He doesn't really understand the whole concept, despite being such a bright boy.

"When we decided that one day we'd marry, we swapped." His mum explains with a smile, but that isn't what Dan can't get his head around.

He pauses, curious. "What are they?" He asks, and his parents both give him odd looks.

"They're our souls, son." His dad rests a hand of his shoulder before digging a hand into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out what looks like a little red light. "This is yours."

Dan holds out his hands and his dad drops it in his palms. It feels too much like a bouncy ball for Dan to take it seriously, but it looks soft around the edges. It's so strange.

His mum's holding a golden chain. "Give it here, then." She looks so proud.

By the end of the day, Dan has a ball of red light suspended around his neck.

* * *

"…What does your soul look like?"

The day's too normal and the question's sudden, too personal, but Phil doesn't mind. He smiles earnestly.

"I haven't seen my yet." He admits, looking a little embarrassed. "In my family, it's tradition for us not to receive our souls at all. When I get engaged, the person who I get engaged to will have to ask my father for my soul. They'll have to pledge not to hurt me and a swear to a few other things, then they'll have to give me their soul before my father gives them mine."

It's a nice thought. Quite cute, but Dan can't help feeling disappointed. He'll never get to see Phil's soul if it's reserved for his future spouse. He nods, showing his interest.

Maybe Phil's soul is the same colour as his eyes, Dan thinks.

* * *

Their meetings become less and less frequent as they grow older. At sixteen, they both attend different secondary schools and a lot changes.

For starters, Phil gets glasses. He hates them, that's for sure, but Dan reassures him whenever possible. He looks good in them, but they're one of the reasons Phil gets bullied.

He hardly at the top of the social ladder. In fact, he's quite close to the bottom. There's just something about him that a lot of people seem to pick up, an air of uneasiness.

So he's beaten. Regularly. Sometimes, he'll meet Dan under the tall tree with bruises littering his pale skin, looking rough with his tie just a little too tight around his neck.

"Phil!" Dan shakes his head, jumping to his feet late one evening. The sun's already starting to set, but Dan usually waits until after dark for Phil, because he never knows when Phil might be able to meet up with him under the tree.

In an instant, Dan's supporting most of Phil's weight. He's forcing him to lean on his shoulder, panicked. "I-I'm fine." Phil stutters, but there's a thin line of blood dribbling down from the corner of his mouth.

"Come on." Dan groans. He knows Phil's been hiding the cuts and marks from his parents, but they need to know. "We'll go to mine. My parents'll clean you up."

Phil starts sobbing and it's like they're ten again, only this time, Phil hasn't broken his finger from falling out of a tree.

* * *

Phil sleeps over after Mr and Mrs Howell finish fussing over him. They're both gentle souls, both extremely caring.

"You need to tell your parents." Dan's dad frowns deeply, binning a tissue sodden with blood. Phil's got a clean bandage wrapped around a particularly deep gash on his arm.

Phil nods, solemn. "Thank you." He chews on his lower lips. Dan's mum's on the phone to Phil's mum, probably telling her about everything that's happened.

Luckily, their exams are almost over, and maybe Phil will transfer into Dan's school to start his A levels.

* * *

That night, Dan shows Phil his soul. It's an accident, but Phil's amazed.

"It's so cool!" He gushes, but then again, Phil's easily amused. Dan sometimes can't believe he's sixteen.

"It's not that great." Dan shrugs. His cheeks are tainted pink because he's shirtless and he was just changing, but Phil noticed his soul and- well, it's kind of nice. He hasn't been this close to Phil for a long time and he's grinning because he's truly happy. Phil's staying for the night and things are good. "You can wear it if you want."

Before Dan processes what he actually said, Phil's eyes light up. "Really?" He looks so hopeful. Dan just can't say no.

* * *

Dan was supposed to sleep on the floor and allow Phil to sleep on the bed, but when they wake up they're far too close, though neither of them mind.

Phil's wearing Dan's soul around his neck. The little ball of crimson light looks just a little bit brighter. It feels right.

Dan can't help but feel somewhat excited by the implications of Phil wearing his soul.

* * *

They get older still and life continues. Phil transfers and the bullying stops, they attend the same school but they study completely different things and they make a few new friends. There's PJ, a boy with curly hair and an incredible imagination, and there's Chris, the life and soul of the party.

The four of them are sitting up in the same old tree, smiling and joking together, and it's the first time that Dan's actually climbed a tree. He feels liberated.

"You're an idiot, Chris!" Phil giggled, trying to catch his breath. He's holding onto Peej's arm for dear life, afraid of falling.

Chris' smile widens, "I know," and he stretches his arms out.

He's wearing a chain around his wrist and only then does Dan notice a green sphere hanging from it. "Wait." He mutters. "Is that your soul?"

"Oh, this?" A light blush adorns his cheeks. "No, no, that's-"

"…That's my soul." PJ cuts in, smiling shyly, and Dan and Phil share a bewildered look.

"A-Are you two…." Phil starts. He can't believe he was so oblivious. It all makes sense now. They're young, but Peej and Chris have always been inseparable. Ever since they met, they've been extremely close friends/borderline partners.

PJ shakes his head. "We're just close friends." He shrugs like it's nothing and digs into his pocket for a little yellow light. It isn't attached to anything and it's strange. "This is Chris' soul. We exchanged because we trust each other enough."

They talk about souls and explain themselves in turn - Chris and Peej go through their story step by step, Dan shows them his soul and Phil recites his family tradition - it's interesting, that's for sure, but Dan's filled with the desire to see Phil's soul once more, though he can't quite figure out why.

* * *

When they all leave school, a few things become clear: they can't stay in their little Northern town. It's too sleepy and quaint for them to make a living. Dan was born in the South, too, so he has plans of moving to London, but he doesn't want to leave Phil.

He can't imagine his life without Phil. He doesn't want to.

He makes the decision of asking Phil whether he'd like to live with him or not and to his surprise, Phil nods happily, cheering because he's excited and he's always wanted to live in a big city.

Dan gets a call later on in the evening. It's from Mr Lester, and he wants to talk.

For some reason, Dan's nervous.

* * *

"You'll look after Phil, won't you?" Mrs Lester looks somewhat torn. Phil has her eyes, and they take Dan back to the night Phil stayed over.

"Of course I will." Dan smiles. He hasn't seen too much of Mr and Mrs Lester in the many years of his friendship with Phil. He wants to impress them. "He's my best friend."

Mr Lester's eyes narrow. "Is that all?" He raises an eyebrow. Dan can feel the suspicion radiating from his body.

Dan nods, a little too quick. "Yeah." He raises his china cup to his lips, sipping his cold tea. For some reason, he's always surprised of how posh Phil's family seems to be.

"…You're lying, boy." Mr Lester's quick to accuse. His wife murmurs a "now, now," rolling her eyes, but Dan can tell she's thinking the same thing.

"…Phil's straight." Dan shrugs, chewing on his lower lip and he's met with laughter. Mr Lester makes a show out of wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

"No, he's not." Mr Lester insists. "He had a boyfriend a few years ago, back when he was at his old school."

Suddenly, Dan feels betrayed. Why didn't Phil tell him? They're best friends, he should of known.

"Turns out he was one of the ones bullying him." Mrs Lester explains, frowning. "We wanted to give you Phil's soul. Granted, it's tradition that you ask in our family, but we don't think Phil will find anyone other than you to love in this world."

It doesn't feel right, but Dan can't bring himself to say no. Mr Lester reveals Phil's soul, and Dan was right all of those years ago.

Phil's soul is the same colour as his eyes, and it's beautiful.

He leaves the Lester residence with two souls hanging around his neck.

* * *

London worked out and they live in a small apartment. It's not too big, but it's a wonderful place to live in with your best-friend-come-something-else.

Dan comes in from work one night exhausted. He staggers into the flat, beyond annoyed, irritated to hell and back. He works in a Starbucks and it's not great, but it pays enough by some miraculous work of the unknown.

"Phil!" He calls, and his friend pops his head out of the living room door, smiling.

"Yeah?" He asks, quick to bound his way up to Dan for a hug. It's just what they do, but lately Dan can't help but feel something more.

"I brought you back a milkshake and a chocolate muffin." Dan grins fondly, handing a brown paper bag to his friend as they part.

Phil launches himself back into Dan's arms for another hug, clearly pleased.

It's a nice way to end a day of work.

* * *

They sleep in different rooms, but the purple glow around Dan's neck makes him feel that little bit closer to Phil. He knows it's wrong - hell, Phil has no idea that his parents don't have his soul anymore - but he can't bring himself to tell Phil. After all, he may not like it.

But what Phil doesn't know won't hurt him.

The days roll by, one after the other, and Dan doesn't feel like he's grown at all, even though he's changed so much. He's no longer a quiet, reserved nine year old and it's all thanks to Phil.

He decides he'll tell him one day.

* * *

_A/N: Feedback is appreciated! I hope you enjoyed it. :)_


	2. Of Your Pain and Mine

"Fucking hell!" Dan yells from his bedroom, pounding his fists against the walls confining him, beyond angry, frustrated and hurt. He's lost his job again, and it's crushing him slowly. He loses himself in a string of curses, letting himself loose. This isn't what he signed up for. Things weren't supposed to play out like this.

First Starbucks, then a high-end supermarket (for the second time) followed by a little cashiering job at a corner shop down the road. He just can't hold anything down.

Phil's unemployed. He has been since they moved in together, but Dan feels obliged to allow him the freedom of figuring things out before he tries to commit himself to any sort of work. It isn't working out in their favours, but Dan has two chains around his neck. He's carrying two souls, not just his own.

He feels terrible for breaking Phil's family tradition, but maybe it's for the best. After all, Mr and Mrs Lester wouldn't have trusted him with something as precious as their son's livelihood if they hadn't approved of him.

Besides, Dan feels as if it's a promise, carrying Phil's soul around and such. He's going to keep Phil safe, no matter what it takes.

He hears Phil calling his name from the living room and footsteps become louder and louder. There's a knocking at his door. It cracks open, a bright blue eye peaking through the gap.

"Are you okay?" Phil asks, his voice muffled, and Dan nods.

Everything's fine.

Everything's fine.

They'll be okay. He knows they will.

* * *

Splayed out on the kitchen counter are little slips of paper covered in messy scrawls of blue ink. They're all notes full of important information: job vacancies, different employers, contact numbers, e-mail addresses. How mundane, Dan thinks, but it has to be done. He sips his coffee, eyes flitting around, scanning this and that. The more he takes in, the better.

He feels like a teenager again, revising for some big exam.

"I'm thinking about vlogging." Phil strikes up a conversation from the other end of the kitchen, the kettle boiling beside him. His voice is thick with sleep and he's wearing one of Dan's old shirts. It's too big for him, but Dan finds it cute.

Memories of their first meeting come flooding back to him. He thinks back to when they were both kids; Dan was a stupid boy with messed up views, too focused on getting printed A's on his results papers and Phil was a dreamer with his head up in the branches if not in the clouds.

Dan stirs his teaspoon in perfect circles, watching his coffee swirl around in his mug. "What's that?" He wonders aloud, too caught up with reminiscing to wrack his brain. Phil's probably mentioned the concept to his before, but he just can't remember.

"It's video blogging." Phil smiles, all sunshine and flowers. "I think."

"You'll need a camera, right?" Dan murmurs, pushing doubts aside. Phil is dedicated. If time passes and he really wants this, he'll stick to it, regardless. "And a decent laptop. Not that prehistoric shit you've got now."

Phil hums in response and cradles his coffee, dawdling into the living room. Dan can almost see the cogs in his mind whirling around and around and around. It's nice.

But it's even nicer to see Phil wearing his clothes.

Dan chews on his lip and shakes his head, his cheeks burning. Phil was busy sounding so ambitious and driven and all Dan could bring himself to consider was how lovely things were when they didn't have to seek employment and how pleasing his clothing and belongings looked when Phil wore them.

* * *

Eventually, Dan finds another job. It's painful, but it pays well, so the benefits outweigh the disadvantages. He's has to stand around all day in a clothing store that sells tacky women's wear and allow girls who are way too young for him to giggle and flirt with him, asking him about where they can find the right type of skirt and where this is and so on, even though most of the time he really has no clue and bluffs his way through his shift.

It pays the bills, anyway, and that's the most important thing about it.

Though, sometimes he doesn't mind his work. He gets to spy little orbs hanging around the necks of so many different people. Red ones, like his own, yellow ones likes Chris', green ones like PJ's and blue ones- no.

He hasn't seen a single one that's like Phil's soul. Phil's is just the perfect shade of blue, light and beautiful and unique, just like Phil himself, and it makes Dan so smug just to think that Phil and his soul are two of a kind. Or one, technically. One and the same.

* * *

They'd been living in London for a whole three months when Dan returns from work late one night to find Phil curled up on his bed with red-rimmed eyes, erratic sobs rocking his body. Dan pulls him into a tight hug almost immediately, desperate to calm and comfort him, but Phil shakes his head, stuttering through tears.

"I-It's d-dad." He stammers, clinging onto Dan for dear life. "He's t-terminal."

Dan feels like a spear has been stabbed straight through his chest. Phil's dad. Mr Lester. The man who'd trusted him with his son's good health and happiness and everything else in between.

He's terminal.

* * *

Dan has to take time off work to accompany Phil in visiting his father in hospital. His boss isn't happy about it, but Dan can argue his case well.

Perhaps he'll become a lawyer one day. He could go to university and get a proper degree in law and-

No. This is about Phil and his parents, not about his struggle to get time off.

They take the train. The journey's long and hard. Phil's falling apart at the seams, tears forever brimming in his eyes. Dan just sits by his side, holding his hand, squeezing his fingers just to let him know he's there.

It doesn't do much, but it keeps Phil from collapsing into a bawling wreck.

* * *

The meeting is short. Shorter than either of them would've liked, but they get to see Mr Lester, who's shaking his head, looking too old. His eyes aren't shining.

Dan can't help but feel relieved they're not blue. It's selfish, but he'd rather be a truthful man rather than a liar.

He's weak, but at the same time Mr Lester's strong. He keeps a stiff upper lip and comforts his wife to the best of his ability. She's a mess, but that's to be expected, and Phil sticks to her side like glue.

"Caroline," he begins, steeling himself, "I want you to find another man. When the time is right, of course. I want you to be happy, my love."

It's an intimate moment and Dan feels like he's intruding, but the scene unfolds regardless of his presence. Caroline shakes her head in defiance, chestnut ringlets bouncing along with her movements.

"Michael, M-Michael, you know you're the o-only one for me." She tells him, tears falling. "W-We took our vows. We said we'd n-never part."

"M-Mum." Phil croaks. "Dad, this isn't the e-end." He balls his hands into fists, determined. "They'll cure you, dad, I-I know they will, they can, they-"

"Phil." Michael frowns deeply with sorrowful eyes. "…You've grown into a fine young man. I'll always be proud of you, son, and I'll always love you. Always."

Dan feels like a stranger around these people, but that's because he's just part of the audience.

Phil's the main character, and he's the only one Dan's come to see. He feels bad, coming to realise that maybe his attraction towards Phil is just… it's nothing big. Nothing important. He doesn't deserve to wear Phil's soul around his neck.

* * *

After staying the night, they're back on the train and Phil's a little more composed. He's heartbroken, of course, but he's more understanding. Braver.

If anything, Dan's worse off.

He had a chat with Mr Lester before they left. A chat about the second light dangling on a chain, resting on his collar bone.

He'd promised he'd look after Phil. He promised that on the night of Phil's twenty-fifth birthday, regardless of the circumstances, he'd give Phil his soul and tell him to do with it as he wished. He'd ensure his safety, his happiness, he'd be by his side forever, whether it be as a friend or as a lover, as a brotherly figure or as a light. Guidance.

He promised.

He became just a little bit closer to the Lester's, not just to Phil, and it made him feel strange. It roused odd feelings within him.

Hesitantly, he reaches for Phil's hand, intertwining their fingers and locking eyes.

"It's okay." He smiles gingerly as the world passes them by, the train still moving, the countryside whizzing past the window. "It's okay."

And Phil smiles back, albeit tearfully.


	3. Of Your Struggles and Mine

Dan gets Phil a trampoline for his birthday.

They don't have much of a garden. It's just a little patch of grass - their apartment's only small it's understandable - the trampoline barely fits into it. He had to ask the businessman in the flat above them whether he minded or not, which of course, he didn't.

Dan bought Phil a camera too, but despite his aspirations involving becoming a popular vlogger, Phil's more appreciative for the trampoline. He's on it whenever possible. Sometimes, Dan will come home from work to find Phil bouncing higher and higher, illuminated by silvery moonlight and it's always brilliant to see him smiling. He looks so happy and his joy reminds Dan of their shared childhood.

"Having fun?" Dan asks late one night, still uniformed, and Phil steadies himself, fingers curling into the netting surrounding the trampoline.

"What do you think?" Phil grins broadly. His eyes are so captivating, even more than usual. He starts bouncing again, jumping up and down in mismatched socks. Dan silently kicks of his shoes and leaves them abandoned on the grass, peeling away his jacket and discarding it carelessly.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all!"

In no time at all, they're laughing like idiots and they're sweating from the exercise, giggling like children without a care in the world until the businessman from the flat above starts shouting profanities at them, angrily complaining about how he's trying to get to sleep, but that only makes them laugh harder.

* * *

The next morning, Dan wakes up naturally. He doesn't have to force himself out of bed with the prospect of coffee and no alarms threaten to burst his eardrums; he's off work for the day and he feels the need to celebrate. He still hasn't been sacked.

He slips out of bed after staring at the ceiling for over fifteen minutes, taking his time because there's no need to rush, he has nowhere to be. He finds Phil in the living room, sitting on the floor, too close to the television with a glass of orange juice beside him which will inevitably be split if Dan doesn't intervene. He wanders over to Phil and confiscates his drink.

"It'll get split." He mutters.

Phil doesn't answer. He's too preoccupied with Adventure Time.

Dan shakes his head fondly and decides to busy himself with making toast.

* * *

Later on in the day, Phil tests out his camera. He records Dan doing stupid things, like pulling strange faces and pretending to fall and hurt himself. The footage is usually blurry or shaky, but neither of them care or mind because Phil's just messing around and he's new to the whole camera business.

They watch the little videos with smiles on the faces, talking about how Phil can improve and get better if he sticks at it, but Dan's happiness is short lived. He notices that in one video, a purple glow can be seen through his white shirt. He starts to panic - Phil knows his soul is red, not purple - then he realises, Dan's wore Phil's soul for so long, how hasn't he noticed already? Surely he would have said something if he had! It's such a serious issue!

"Look at this." Phil's voice is gentle. Soft and quiet. "The angle's just right and the camera is focused properly, there isn't much shaking and the lighting's perfect!"

He's clearly proud of himself. Dan nods and praises him lightly, but he can't bring himself to feel excitement, because if Phil were to ever discover the fact that Dan has his soul, through unorthodox means, he'd hardly be able to ask him out properly.

* * *

"Can we go to the cinema?" Phil asks. It's late and they've already been on the trampoline for the day. Streetlights are glowing orange outside their flat and the grouchy businessman who Phil's taken the opportunity to affectionately call 'Squidward' has already settled down for the night.

Dan frowns. "It's late." He murmurs. "…What do you want to see, anyway?" He was planning on going to bed soon, what, with work in the morning and all.

"I don't know." Phil muses. He's scrolling through numerous webpages on his old, somewhat battered laptop. The amount of windows he has open is starting to make Dan feel uncomfortable.

"We'll take our chances, eh?" Dan suggests. Sometimes, they'll just wander out and take a look around, hoping there's a good film to watch. If not, they'll just have to find another way to occupy themselves.

"Okay." Phil smiles. He folds his laptop away and Dan starts to realise why it looks so beaten and broken.

He frowns. "If we get you a new one, you'll have to look after it." He nods towards to device and Phil rolls his eyes.

"I will." He reassures.

* * *

Before they leave the house, Dan makes a quick trip to his bedroom. He's not sure why, but he finds himself standing in front of a little brown box - a gift from his mother - he doesn't keep much in it. His grandmother's engagement ring, a small badge with a cartoon character on it, which Phil had given him for his fourteenth birthday as a part of an assortment of presents, an elastic band ball he'd had for as long as he could remember.

He unlocked it with a tiny key he kept stashed away under his pillow - how cliché - and took the time to carefully take off one of the chains that hung around his neck. Phil's soul.

He tugged it, but it caught on his own chain, refusing to let go until Dan was forced to awkwardly untangle the two souls with one hand.

Phil's soul was gently placed in the box, along with the other relics of his past, other memories. An addition to his little collection.

"Dan?" Phil calls from the porch and Dan tells him he's ready, quickly locking the box, rushing to return the key to where it belongs and grabbing his coat as he hurries.

Maybe he'll spend the rest of the night without worry weighing heavily on his mind.


	4. Of Your Care and Mine

In the end, they don't reach the cinema because the temperature takes a sudden turn for the worst and Phil starts sneezing continuously, complaining over a headache.

"It's fine." Dan reassures him. They'd almost reached Starbucks as well. He was looking forward to a good hot chocolate.

They walk home in the dark, Phil embarrassed, his cheeks flushed. "Sorry." He mumbles, clearly disappointed.

Dan can't really protest either way. He wins in both situations; if they go home, he can try and get an early night in preparation for work the next morning, if they stay out, he gets to watch a good film with his best friend.

He gently curled an arm around Phil's back, weaving him out of the paths of strangers because he really won't be able to handle any accidental casualties.

"Careful." He whispers as a woman nearly hits Phil with her clunky bag, chatting obliviously on her phone. Phil just sneezes again

* * *

Phil goes straight to bed when they get home. Dan's orders, of course. He doesn't want Phil to get ill or anything, so going to bed early will do him good.

"I'll take tomorrow off work if I have to." He smiles, standing over Phil who lies bundled up in his duvet. "If you're not well, that is."

Shaking his head, Phil pushes himself up. "I can take care of myself." He insists, a small pout gracing his lips. He isn't wearing his glasses or his contacts and Dan can tell he can't see properly. "I'm not a kid."

"You're not well, either." Dan reasons, rolling his eyes. "Don't strain yourself."

Begrudgingly, Phil pipes down, resting his head against his fluffy pillow, closing his eyes. His hair is all stuck up at odd angles and his eyes and he looks worn, like this has been coming for quite some time. It's understandable, given the fact he's been worrying endlessly and panicking over little things such as bills and payments. Dan feels guilty. How hadn't he noticed earlier?

It can't be helped.

Phil's breathing shallowly, succumbing to sleep. Dan's careful. He makes sure he's asleep before he hovers over him, quickly pressing his lips to pale skin before silently leaving the room.

* * *

Dan calls in sick the next day because Phil woke up at four in the morning and he is by no means okay. He was being delusional, falling prey to some sort of nightmare that he couldn't shake off and ended up vomiting tirelessly into a plastic bowl Dan had brought him.

His cheeks were tear-streaked and he was clutching his stomach, his head a complete mess.

Dan just couldn't leave him on his own.

* * *

It was around noon the next day when Phil calmed down. He'd just been sleeping. He was too tired and too fatigued to do much else and Dan really felt for him. He stayed by his side, stroking his hair, murmuring sweet reassurances and promises into his ear.

"…W-Why are you still here?" Phil asks, his voice weak and wavering. "You should b-be at w-work."

Dan rolls his eyes. "I'm not leaving you. Not now, not for work, not for anything. You need me. You're not well."

Phil doesn't argue. He doesn't want to needlessly tire himself out. "Okay." He mumbles quietly, managing a small nod. "T-Thanks."

"It's okay." Dan smiles, adoration reflecting in his warm eyes. He knows Phil feels awful, so the least he can do is try to cheer him up.

"…C-Can I see y-your soul?" Phil's voice is barely audible, hushed by doubt and nerves.

Dan nods, reaching around to the back of his neck, unfastening the chain. "Here." He holds it up, letting Phil stare at it for a brief moment or two before carefully motioning for Phil to lift his head from his pillow. "You can wear it. If you want to, I mean… you don't have to if you don't want to, that's-"

"Thank you." Phil's eyes look a little bit livelier and Dan secures the chain around his neck, the red light resting on pale skin.

"You're welcome." Dan nods in acknowledgement, his lips tugging upwards.

* * *

With time, Phil recovers and Dan goes back to work. His boss is incredibly unhappy with him and he's playing a very dangerous game. Phil's still got his soul around his neck - it doesn't mean anything, he's probably just forgotten to take it off - and Dan's a great deal happier. He doesn't know why, he just is.

He gets home one night after working the late shift to find Phil's old laptop resting on his bed, a single webpage open.

There's a big box with a single play sign inside of it and underneath it is a lot of information.

_My First Video!_

_AmazingPhil. _

_Three subscribers. _

Dan has never felt prouder.


	5. Of Your Strength and Mine

"Dan! Dan, get up! Wake up, Dan! Dan!" Phil wakes his friend up the next morning by jumping up and down on his bed and stealing checkered covers, pulling them away. "D-Dan, get up!"

"W-What? Phil, what time is it?" Dan mutters, rubbing at his eyes, bleary and hazed by sleep.

Phil's clearly back up to scratch, the epitome of health. His beautiful blues shine behind his thick glass and his hair is all over the place, sticking up here, tangled there, but he still looks perfect. "I've got _ten _subscribers! _Ten!"_

Dan becomes a little more alert, shaking away his fatigue. "That's great!" He grins lopsidedly, holding his arms out to Phil and they fall into place, arms wrapped around one another. How Phil managed to gain ten subscribers overnight, neither of them will ever know, but nevertheless it certainly is a momentous occasion. Phil's finally kick-started something he's been unsure of for quite some time, and that takes guts.

"Brilliant." Dan whispers in Phil's ear, brushing away stray locks of ebony hair. "Absolutely brilliant."

Phil holds him close, over the moon and Dan keeps his arms tight around pale skin, Phil's nightwear rising slightly. _He's_ suddenly reminded of how much he hates his own job and it stings. _He's_ earning the money, _he's_ bringing in the dough,_ he's_ keeping them afloat and sustaining them, yet it's _Phil_ who gets to do as he pleases, it's _Phil_ who gets to take his time to choose what he wants to do with his life,_ it's Phil who is as happy as-_

Dan catches scarlet light from underneath Phil's grey shirt and he smiles.

It's okay, he supposes, because everything he does is for Phil and with Phil in his arms, he is happy too.

* * *

Dan's due to work during the late hours of the day, so instead of getting some well-needed and well-deserved rest, he stays awake, using Phil's poor excuse for a laptop to read through the few comments left on Phil's video.

_'awwwwh, ur so funny :]'_

_'Omg, make more videos plz, you're awesome'_

_'ur adorable x3 xoxox'_

Yes, Dan thinks, Phil's adorable. It's a clear fact, as obvious as the day is long. His blood boils slightly as he continues reading and his lower lip ends up caught between his teeth.

_'where hav u been all my lyf? aha!;)3'_

_'I LUV UR ACCENT!XXXXX'_

In the end, he closes the webpage and unplugs the charger, closing the faulty device and pushing it away from him with a sour look on his face.

The thought of viewers recognising Phil's good looks and sheer charm hadn't crossed his mind. Not once.

_**Daniel Howell: 0**_

_**The rest of the world: 1**_

* * *

"Dan! You're late!" His manager shouts as he arrives at work, his uniform messy and his hair curly.

"Sorry." He mutters in apology, futilely trying to tug the creases out of his shirt. "Slept in."

He pushes past his superior and dives straight into the deep end, daring to even show his face in public with the monstrosity that is the state of his hair.

Truth be told, he hadn't taken a nap and slept in or anything of a sort. He'd just been chatting to Phil about his plans for his YouTube channel and interrogated him on his aims.

He's never really felt such jealousy before.

* * *

By the end of the day, Dan was ready for bed. His day couldn't get worse. He'd managed to break a young girl's heart, almost destroyed a rail of clothing and learned that he'd no longer have a job. Things just weren't working out, apparently. He wasn't dedicated enough to the company and his standard of work wasn't high enough.

He was allowed to work there for another week, but Dan just left, quitting anyway. What was the point in sticking around for another seven days of torture only for one more measly pay check?

The job wasn't even worth the money to begin with.

"I've fucked up _again!" _Dan hisses as he slams the front door and there's a startled mutter from the other end of the corridor.

"Dan?" Phil's just as tired as Dan was earlier in the morning.

"I've screwed up, Phil!" Dan's tugging at his hair, tufts and curls poking out from between his fingers. "Again! I've messed everything up! I'm sorry, I really am! It's just I can't-"

In the blink of an eye, Phil's managed to scamper over to Dan. He's standing on the tips of his toes, looking Dan straight in the eye. "It's fine." He tells him, his voice dripping with sincerity, it's sickening, really. His tone is too sweet and sugary for Dan's stomach to handle. "We're a team, right? You've done so much for me - _for us _- I should have taken the wheel months ago..."

"It's okay." He promises, continuing. "I think we'll have things covered for a while. I'll go out and try and get a job or something, carry on with YouTube as a hobby and we'll do fine, honestly."

Dan's speechless. In less than a week, Phil had steeled himself, put all he had on the line - his dignity, his confidence, his image - and took a risk, starting YouTube, and know he was willing to sacrifice that?

"No, no, no." Dan's shaking his head but Phil's got this look about him, this. There's a twinkle in his eye and a small grin playing upon his pink lips. Dan just wants to take him by the shoulders and shake him hard, forcing sense into him, but he's also leaning forwards, ever so slightly. "You're a YouTuber, Phil. You're going to go far, we'll manage, I'll just have to think of something, sort myself out, y'know?"

"Dan, tell me you're happy." Phil's uncharacteristically serious. He chews on his lower lip and Dan feels oddly guilty.

"What?"

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you? Tell me you're honestly happy, claiming benefits whenever you're stuck jobless, flicking through newspapers and ending up doing work you hate before it all comes crashing down. Tell me you're not tired. Tell me you're not dying on the inside. Or, if that's too much, just tell me you can't. Don't you want a break?"

Dan's left standing alone, confused and somewhat lightheaded.

Where do they stand now?

* * *

The next morning, Dan is awoken by Phil singing the wrong lyrics to an old _Fall Out Boy_ song. Dan can't put his finger on the name of the song, but it doesn't matter because Phil's trying to hit the high notes and it sounds beautiful.

If love is supposedly blind, is it also deaf?

Either way, it's cute, so he can't bring himself to care.

"Phil!" He calls and the singing stops.

"Yeah?" Phil hollers back, sounding a little bit dazed.

"What time is it?"

"I don't know."

Rolling back over and curling up in the covers, Dan decides to sleep in anyway; he's tired and he's had a rough time, unprepared to deal with the world.

"That's okay." Phil wanders into his room after a while, clad in pajamas decorated by little cartoon clouds. He slips underneath Dan's duvet like it means nothing at all and Dan has to remind himself that it doesn't. "We'll just stay here all day."

"Yes, please." Dan nods, his voice quietening. Phil shifts, edging closer, curling up and drawing his knees into his chest, wrapped up in a ball. "For the rest of the day."


	6. Of Your Thoughts and Mine

Things don't get better. Not at all. Phil gets a phone call early one morning and he's got unshed tears threatening to fall, making his eyes shine – later, he tells Dan that the doctors are trying to come up with ways to save his father, but they're only succeeding in buying him more time – he cries into Dan's chest for quite some time until he manages to pull himself together.

It's hard to watch the one you love fall apart.

The whole Youtubing business is good. For some reason, Phil is getting one or two new subscribers every day, so he makes little vlogs and trivial matters but it's still apparent that he's far from bagging himself a partnership. He's inquired about it and looked it up, but he's not prepared to subject the few viewers he has to advertisements. He doesn't want to scare them away.

Dan would hate to admit it, but doubt is slowly creeping up on him. Phil isn't going to get a job. Even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to. Sure, he's got some good qualifications under his belt, but he has next to no experience. He tried his hand at working for a local vet but that was only because he had to, for work experience when he was sixteen, but he fainted twice for two completely different reasons. He wasn't going to be able to secure himself any kind of employment.

So Dan starts searching again. Behind Phil's back. He feels bad about it, but he doesn't want to make his friend worry or feel guilty or anything. Lying isn't good, but he's just obscuring his efforts to keep them well in the long run, so it's okay.

Yeah, it'll be okay.

* * *

"Dan?" Phil calls his name from another room, sounding curious, so Dan drops his green highlighter onto the glass coffee table and puts his paper to one side, opening another page to leave it displaying the sporting results of a local football team to hide what he was actually reading: job adverts.

"What?" Dan doesn't know what to expect when he finds Phil in his room, but he certainly hadn't anticipated Phil to be holding a small key between his fingers.

"What's this for?" He tilts his head slightly, wondering what the key could possibly lead to, what it could possibly open, so consumed in his intrigue. He doesn't notice the panicked look that crosses Dan's face.

The box.

The soul.

Dan shakes his head quickly, trying to deter Phil from the potentiality of finding his own soul because that would end disastrously – would he even come to realise that the soul belongs to him? Dan's not sure which would be worse: Phil realising that the soul is his own, or Phil assuming the soul to belong to someone else.

"I'm not sure." Dan lies. "I found it under my bed the other day."

Phil doesn't look entirely convinced for some reason. There's a sceptical gaze hidden under a layer of lingering fascination at his discovery. "Oh." He smiles.

"Why're you holding it?" Dan's a little annoyed in all honesty. It was stashed under his pillow, as always.

"I was making your bed." Phil explains, keeping his natural innocent glow, that aura that keeps Dan from losing his cool from time to time. "Your room is an absolute tip and your parents are coming over in a few days."

Dan's eyes widen and all irritation is momentarily forgotten.

"What?" He mutters, paling slightly.

"Your parents… don't tell me you forgot, Dan!" Phil shakes his head in disbelief. "They rung weeks ago! They've scheduled time off work for this!"

"Oh god."

"Dan!"

"It'll all be fine, we have plenty of time!"

"…If you say so."

"Can I have the key, please?" Dan asks, keeping his voice low. One false move could cost him the literal key to his best kept secret.

"Sure." Phil starts wandering out of the room, humming a song, handing Dan the key as he passes him.

Dan lets out a sigh of relief as Phil's footsteps fade into the distance and music starts playing from another room.

He's okay. For now, at least.

* * *

Phil doesn't ask about the key again, but the encounter's had a significant impact on Dan. He starts thinking, _'__where would I be right now if Phil wasn't here?'_

For starters, a lot of things that had happened in the past wouldn't have actually taken place. Dan wouldn't have stayed behind after school during their sixth form years because Phil wouldn't have stayed with him. He wouldn't have spent a great deal of his time chasing bullies away from his best friend when they were both fifteen. He'd probably be in really bad shape, actually.

When he was seventeen, he went through a bit of a phase and started sleeping around with anyone who'd lie down and he wasn't exactly proud of that, but he stopped when Phil started to notice how many hearts he was breaking, including his own.

He swears he'd almost earned a soul from those days.

So, in conclusion, he can happily say that if it weren't for Phil, he would've ended up in pretty bad shape, so he's thankful, but he does have some regrets.

He's left to wonder how much Phil really thinks he's worth and a wave of worry crashes down on him, accompanied by a little bit of self-loathing.


	7. Of Your Friendship and Mine

The doorbell rings just as Dan finishes cleaning his room, covering up all traces of the apocalypse that once started from within his wardrobe. There are no longer dirty garments and the occasionally empty Malteser packet lying around on his floor, carelessly discarded, and everything's in place; the key is also well and truly hidden, out of the way, hiding itself from curious eyes and itching fingers.

It's Phil who answers the door and Mr and Mrs Howell beam, heartily throwing compliments at the boy whilst he ushers them inside, cheeks pink.

"How you've grown, Philip!" Mrs Howell grins and pulls him into a close embrace and it reminds Phil of the times he'd limp to her front door with Dan supporting him, tears streaming down his face and blood dripping down from scraped knees. She smells like lavender and cinnamon.

Phil gushes, rather overjoyed to meet with the Howells once more, overcome with nostalgia. "Thanks, Mrs Howell." He smiles brightly, noting that he stands quite a few inches taller than her, yet he still can't come close to her husband. He shakes his hand but he can't help but notice the way the taller man's eyes narrow ever so slightly and it's a little unnerving.

"Nice to see you again, m'boy." A small smile spreads across thin lips. "I didn't know you and-"

Just then, Dan bustles through from his room, a shimmer in his eyes. "Mum, dad." He nods to them both, allowing his mother to pull him into a tight hug without another word. He smiles, realising he towers over her, kissing the top of her head lightly before squirming out of her arms to clap his father on the back. "Tea, coffee?" He asks, but he knows the answer. Tea with milk and two sugars for his mum, black coffee for his dad.

It's so nice to meet with people from their sheltered past, even if doting parents can be a little too invasive and overbearing at times. It's lovely, and as the married couple take their seats on the couch, Phil falls into the bean bag at the side of the arm chair and they slip into easy conversation, Dan returning soon after, somehow managing to carry four mugs containing hot beverages expertly.

* * *

They've covered every topic possible, from their careers and jobs to transportation and driving licenses and everything in between, and Dan's under the suspicion that his mum's going to want to go to bed soon. His dad will follow her, no doubt.

But just after she yawns and stretches her arms above her head, a new discussion is brought to life, fuelled by genuine interest and confusion.

His mum looks almost unable to contain herself any longer, eyes bright and wide. "You didn't tell us you were getting married!" She practically squeals, delighted at the thought of her first son's engagement.

"Helena!" His dad whines, curling an arm around her shoulders as they lean back into the sofa.

"E-Engaged?" Phil stammers, turning to look up at Dan with utter shock and misunderstanding written across his face, but Dan can't help him. He hasn't got a clue what his mum is talking about either.

"Uh, mum?" Dan raises an eyebrow, resting his hands on his knees, leaning forwards. "We're not engaged."

Her face falls and a frown sets itself upon her lips. "…But Philip's wearing your soul." She bluntly states, pointing towards the red light hanging from around Phil's neck with a finger manicured to perfection. It doesn't take long for Phil's cheeks to turn an impressive shade of scarlet, matching the colour of the soul he's wearing, and he splutters, stumbling over his own words without the foggiest of ideas of what to say.

"No, no." Dan shakes his head, cheekily peering over the side of his armchair, ruffling ebony hair cheekily. "We're not engaged, he's just wearing it for a few days to keep an old friend off his tail." Dan lies straight through his teeth but his mum seems to be buying it, at least. He can't say the same for his dad, but he'll most likely get interrogated later anyway. "This guy keeps on trying to chat him up- it's so funny! But Phil's still the same big baby as he used to be and he doesn't like it." Dan sticks his lip out in mock sympathy and Phil whines, protesting lightly, shifting away so Dan can mess his hair up no further.

"…Oh." Mrs Howell utters and it's obvious she's disappointed. "I see."

The conversation falls dead at the drop of a hat and Mrs Howell ends up excusing herself, her husband following her closely behind. They're going to be sleeping in Dan's room whilst Dan takes the couch.

"Daniel, can I have a word with you, please? Before bed?" The elder Mr Howell politely requests and Dan nods, casting a worried eye over to Phil, who doesn't say or do anything.

"Sure, dad." Dan nods, and he wanders out into the hallway.

He's going to get an earful, he just knows it.

* * *

"Why are you letting him saunter around with your soul around his neck if you have no intentions with him?" Mr Howell spits, angered beyond belief, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself.

"I do have intentions with him!" Dan insists, keeping his voice down to a hushed whisper. "I just can't- I can't tell him yet!" He quickly excuses, wracking his brain for more ammunition, for something to defend himself with because he knows his father likes the idea of tradition and value and, to him, souls are very important and sacred things.

Well, they are, but that's not the point.

"Dan." Mr Howell sighs, bringing a hand up to rest it on Dan's shoulder. "You can't just give him your soul as a good luck charm, as a security blanket. You're both grown men now, young adults at the least! You've got to get it back or at least set down foundations, tell him how you feel! You know you'll have so much support behind you for this-"

"I know, dad." Dan mumbles. "I know. I'm going to speed things up a little. I'm going to ask him out or something soon, but the situation's a little bit more delicate than that. I've got his soul."

"You have his too? Oh dear-"

"Dad, his parents gave me his soul- his dying father's trusting me! I've already promised I'll do whatever I can to keep him safe and happy and all that! I'm practically already married to him!"

"A one-sided marriage sounds like an awful proposition, son."

"Yeah, well… it won't be one-sided for much longer, eh?"

Mr Howell merely shakes his head and pats Dan on the back. "Do what you've got to do, son." He mutters. "Just be careful." He takes off to be at his wife's side and closes the door to Dan's bedroom with a small _thump_.

"Dan?" Phil calls from in the living room and Dan returns to stand beside him, smiling albeit a little sadly.

"Yeah?" He asks and Phil frowns.

Phil carefully takes Dan's soul from around his neck and stands, rising to his feet. "Here." He places it into Dan's cupped hands. "I don't want anything like that to cause trouble between us."

"It won't, Phil." Dan tells him, staring down at the scarlet orb and he swears for a moment that it's getting a little bit duller, losing some of the light it once retained. "Phil, I want you to where it, come on-"

But Phil shakes his head and silently leaves the room.

Dan's left to be with his own screaming thoughts and the pain growing within his chest and he wants to kick himself - how is he going to be able to look after someone who won't even where his soul anymore? Who probably doesn't harbour any feelings that aren't platonic for him anyway? He sits down of the sofa and buries his head in his hands, cool metal and an odd, strange against his forehead both at the same time.

He's never letting his parents visit again, he swears.


End file.
